


Arthur writing about mental illness/ His POV

by ArthurFlecksGirl



Category: Joker (2019)
Genre: Angst, Journal, Mental Illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:48:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27900112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArthurFlecksGirl/pseuds/ArthurFlecksGirl
Summary: My version of the scene when Arhur writes in his journal. His POV.
Kudos: 5





	Arthur writing about mental illness/ His POV

Just like expected its one of those nights again. I dont even remember how it feels to sleep anymore. Not that kinda sleep that`s easing your mind. Not for a bit. Just like I dont remember how it is to eat anymore. And I really dont know whats worse. I just wish I could eat a whole meal for once and lie down afterwards, drifting away into sleep. Dreaming of a pretty girl instead of seeing those shadow figures and the guys with their head in the cages. Maybe I`m the guy with the caged head. Trapped inside of my own mind. I`m starving. Not only on the lack of food. I`m touch starved to the very bone.  
Sometimes I surprise myself that I`m still able to have the engery to work all my shifts and stuff. I guess there is still some energy left but I´m not sure where it comes from or what its motivation is. Maybe its because I´m still hoping on something better. Something more. There must be a life outside these four walls. These walls! They`re closing in on me again. This fucking apartment. I wish I could just get out of here ad never come back. Honestly I cant stand the darkness of this place. The dark you can see and the one you can feel. Sitting here alone at my desk at night, with that small lamp burning so I can see the pages of my journal, feels like lying in a bathtub and the water is rising up your throath. Its getting too hot and you just want to stand up and get out, but you cant. So you just give in and let your head sink underwater. Waiting for something to happen. Anything.  
The night is for jokes. I cant work on my jokes at daytime, because mum will distract me with her ever running tv and her neverending questions about Thomas Wayne. How the hell shoudl I be able to concentrate on my purpose then? So I do it now, when insomnia has me in its tight claws. The only touch I have ever known.  
I checked on my notes I wrote down at Pogos. Sexy jokes always funny. So I wrote one. Its not sexy at all, but its about sex so I think people would still be into it.   
"Why did the old man like having insomnia? Because he didnt have to sleep with his wife."  
I hope thats funy enough. Because you never know what goes on in other peoples minds. I sometimes dont even know whats going on inside of my own mind. There are times when I just can`t stand whats up in there and I ask myself if thats something common? Something people do? Disagreeing with themselves? Because it happens to me a lot. Like, something very uncomfortable happens and there is this part of me that thinks its hilarious and I feel this laughter crawling up my throath, while I actually feel the opposite. I wanna stay quiet and calm or I just want to fucking cry because the situation is terrible and tragic and unbearable. But this other part of me just breaks out in laughter and no matter how hard I try to keep it under control. It just makes things worse. So yeah. I disagree with myself a lot. And thats not a good thing to feel. I wanna be at peace with myself.   
Another one  
Why are the poor people always confused? Because they dont make any cents.   
Thats a tricky one right here because its very smart. They dont make and SENSE to the rich people. Rich people dont even wanna try to understand the perspective of the poor. They dont think about how its like to be the other guy. And if you dont try to understand , you wont. And if you won`t understad something, it doesnt make sense to you. Got it? It really is a joke to point out ignorance. And I hope they will get it.

Alright another one. I´m very protuctive tonight.  
What did the crazy man say to the straight jacket? Loosen up a little.

What can I say. I`ve been in one before and I dont get why they dont make it at least a bit looser? Its not like you could use your arms or hands if they did so. I`ve been in and out of the mental hospital for most of my life. And at times when I was younger, I was hurting myself again just to make it out of this room. At least I had my own room there. But still, its no fun at Arkham eihter. People always look down on you if they consider you crazy. Maybe I am but who are they to think they are not? You cant be sure whats going on in the doctors mind, right? Like, the person who gives you the pills could have the most insane mind and you wouldnt even know because they are getting better and better in knowing the rules of how to hide it from others. I dont even wanna hide it. I just want to be accepted. I think if you are trying to hide your mental illness from others, you will just make it harder for yourself. I wnat poeple to love me for who I am. And if I am mentally ill then I am. So the person who loves me has to deal with it. I mean, I have to deal with it myself. Its not like I choosed to be this way. But really, the worst part about having a mental illness are other people. Its not yourself. Its not your own mind torturing you. Its them and how they treat you. How they expect you to hide it so they can feel more comfortable around you. They dont care about how hard it is on you, how much you suffer and how much you actually try to get better. They want you to hide it and when you cant they want to see you in that straight jacket and then they want to see you crazy. As soon as you are locked up they want the whole show. The whole clichee. People are just so small minded. They dont want to see your broken parts but once they saw them they throw you away, telling you this cant be fixed.  
I should write this down so i won`t forget. Maybe Dr Kane has something to think about when she reads it.  
"The worst part about having a mental illness is...."  
i put the pen back and take a deep drag of my cigarette. Trying to concentrate here. Which is hard when you mind gets all blurry out of the sudden. Thinking about how to get this sentence right makes me dive deep into the corners of my mind. So deep I feel something changing. There is something moving inside of me. An awakening. What started as a blurr becomes more and more clear now. I can feel it in my veins, my bones. It starts by taking over my mind, spreading inside of my body. Its like I`m unfolding myself. It reaches my arms. I can feel my body in a way I never experienced it before. It doesnt feel bad. It feels liberating in a way. I feel a mischiveous smirk reaching my lips as I switch to my left hand. I`m usually right handed. So this is a surprise. Does it feel different? It does.  
I feel the pen scratching on the paper. I can actually hear it. Thats how quiet the apartment is.  
"...people expect you to behave as if you don`t".....  
I grin to myself. To the self that I feel emerge.  
My left hand is drawing a smiley.   
No matter how you feel...they always expect you to smile.


End file.
